


Off Sparks

by QuinnCliff



Series: Shadow on Me [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: (as usual), Angst, Dark Sherlock, Disturbing thoughts, Drug Addiction, Everybody loves John, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Jealousy, M/M, Mental Instability, Obsessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Alternating, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Jim, Possessive Sherlock, Rivalry, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2015-12-03
Packaged: 2018-02-18 01:22:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 18,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2330090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinnCliff/pseuds/QuinnCliff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When John's life seemed to be free of all his past ghosts, he is dragged into the chaos again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Steadily emerging with grace

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Polski available: [Iskry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2692091) by [Luthien_00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien_00/pseuds/Luthien_00)



> Hello again! :D
> 
> Welcome to the continuation of Powder Kegs! I know, it took me so long to update the second part! Sorry, but my inspiration just didn't come up. But thankfully yesterday it decided to shine again!  
> So, as usual I hope you all forgive my mistakes. Story still not beta'd or britpicke'd.  
> Hope you enjoy this part! ;**

 

**_Nine Years Later_ **

 

“Stop it, Seb! It tickles!” John said between giggles.

Sebastian was all over John, mouth kissing his neck; legs tangled with the blonde’s smaller ones; fingertips brushing softly his stomach and armpits; and growing erection pressed against John’s hip. Every chance Sebastian got he threw himself on John; he needed to do it to convince himself what he was living was real and not a dream. The first thing he searched in the morning when his eyes open heavy with sleep was John. Eight years dating the man and he still couldn’t believe his luck. They used to be two good souls lost in the middle of a storm, but now they were safe and sound in each other’s arms.

Sebastian licked a stripe on John’s lovely neck and shifted so he could kiss the man’s mouth deeply. This was all his. John was his now, and this fact still made all of his hair to stand up when he thought about it. Of course he would never say out loud his mildly possessive thoughts; he knew John had had enough of possessiveness for a lifetime. But how could Sebastian not be possessive over the blonde? John was always the most gorgeous thing in the room and everybody who laid eyes on him coveted him. Sometimes Sebastian wished he could leave at least some hickeys on John’s throat so everyone could see, but he never did it. He wanted to be the boyfriend John always needed, and so far he was doing a great job.

“You’re heavy, handsome thing”, John chuckled when they pulled back from the hot kiss.

“Never complained before, angel”, Seb nuzzled John’s scarred cheek.

“Well, I haven’t gotten shot before”, John laughed.

Sebastian immediately rolled off John. He had completely forgot his boyfriend was wounded, how could he? “I’m so sorry, John. I…”

“Hey, it’s fine”, John turned his head to press a kiss to Seb’s forehead. “We were in the heat of the moment.” He said in a flirtatious tone.

Sebastian leaned to press a soft kiss on John’s shoulder, where the bandages were still covering the damaged skin. _John has so many scars,_ Sebastian thought. _And he still isthe most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen_. Right after John was shot in battlefield, Sebastian had lost no time in shooting the sniper who had done that to his boyfriend, although his shot was in the man’s head. A little more fatal.

“Still, I should’ve been careful. Sorry”, Sebastian carded his fingers through John’s grown soft hair. He loved the feeling of it on his callous skin.

“Well, if you’re so sorry… I know a way you can apologize properly.” John smirked, taking and guiding Seb’s hands down the bulge under his trousers.

Sebastian moved so he could straddle John’s hips. “Seems like you have a situation here, doctor”, he said feigning an innocent and surprised look.

“Oh no”, John said breathless as Seb unbuttoned his trousers, “Do you think it’s incurable?”

Sebastian pulled down John’s trousers just so he could reach his pants. “No no. In fact, I have just the cure you need, doctor.”

John shivered when Seb took his hard length in hand. He started to stroke it slowly at first, just teasing his boyfriend. John’s face was contorted into a pleasurable expression; eyes closed tight and mouth gaped asking for air. Sebastian loved just how sensitive the blonde was.  Not only physically though. John comprehended people no matter the story, and he could sit and listen to whatever the person was talking about and still give them good advices on life. That was how his John was; he liked to take care. That was his doctor’s side. But John also had his soldier’s side; the man who was not afraid of fighting for what he believed just and who greeted danger as a friend. John was a paradox and Sebastian loved every bit of it.

“Faster, Seb”, John groaned.

Seb silently acquiesced, speeding his pace and stroking John the way he liked it. Brushing his thumb over the head a couple of times while squeezing the shaft tighter and fondling John’s bollocks with his other hand. The blond was a beautiful mess under him, back arching out of bed and chest going up and down with his hard breathing. Sheen of sweat covered his tanned face. “Is the cure having any effect, doctor?” Seb teased, voice low with arousal.

John moaned before answering, “Oh fuck yes!”

Sebastian felt his own trousers incredibly tight but he ignored it for the time being; he only cared about giving John pleasure. He kept the quick pace on John’s cock and it looked like it was about to explode when suddenly someone knocked on their door. John opened his eyes and bit his lip, an annoyed expression on his face, although lust was still the main one. “Ignore it, Seb. Please, don’t stop!”

And so Sebastian didn’t stop even when the doorbell rang twice followed by three more knocks. Thankfully it didn’t take long for John to come on his hand. Unfortunately, though, he couldn’t even enjoy his boyfriend’s post orgasm state like he loved to do, for John was already getting out of bed searching for a cloth to clean himself right before tucking his now soft cock in his trousers again. “I’m sorry, Seb. We’ll take care of you in a moment, yes?” John said softly, kissing Sebastian’s head and walking to the door.

Sebastian stood up and stopped a few steps behind John, crossing his arms. When the blonde opened the door they were greeted by a very familiar face that hadn’t been seen in years. Sebastian wasn’t sure if he liked the visit or not. Probably not.

“Anthea! Wow, how long.” John exclaimed, running a hand through his mussed hair.

“Hello, Dr. Watson. May I please come in?” The skinny woman said, taking her eyes off her phone for a second to look at John.

“Yes, sure”, John stepped aside so she could get in.

“Captain Moran,” Anthea nodded her head to Sebastian who nodded back without saying a word.

“Please sit down.” John gestured to the green chair near the hearth. After she settled herself there still texting quickly on her phone, Sebastian and John sat on the sofa in front of her. Sebastian wanted to circle John’s shoulders with his arm to show the woman his boyfriend was protected and happy, but instead he just clasped them together on his lap.

“How is your shoulder, doctor?” Anthea asked in an even tone. _Seven years and she still looks the same indifferent human being. No surprise she works for Mycroft,_ Sebastian thought mentally rolling his eyes.

“Been better”, John mused. “What brings you here after so many years?”

Anthea typed some things before lifting her head to look at John again; her expression was as blank as expected. “I’m sure you already know Mr. Holmes sent me here.”

“Naturally. You’re not the type to make casual visits”, John answered, crossing his legs.

“Indeed. Well, to be simple and clear with you, Dr. Watson: we need you back in London.” Anthea said as if she was telling them how the weather was.

John’s light face turned hard in a second. Sebastian frowned, he was about to say some naked truth to the heartless woman when John spoke again. “Why?”

Sebastian gasped. “It doesn’t matter, John! We’re not going back there.”

“I believe I said _Doctor Watson_ is needed in London. Not you, Captain Moran”, Anthea said annoyingly calm.

“He’s not going anywhere without me”, Sebastian hissed, leaning forward.

“Calm down, Seb. It’s okay”, John soothed him with a hand on the ginger’s thigh. “Why do Mycroft need me in London?” He asked again.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to go there to find out.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Sebastian snarled. He wanted nothing more than to kick her posh arse out of their flat, but John’s hand squeezed his leg before he could do anything else.

“It means Mr. Holmes wants to explain everything personally to Dr. Watson”, she answered lowering her eyes to the bloody phone again.

“He should be the one to come here then, shouldn’t he?” Sebastian snapped, breathing hard. There was no way he was going to let them take John away from him. Especially not to London. They were building a tranquil and almost normal life in Southampton since they left Afghanistan two months ago. It’s true they were still living on the army’s pension, but soon John would recover completely to start working again and Sebastian would have time to look for a job as well. And then he finally would be able to propose properly.

“Mr. Holmes cannot leave London for the time being, but it’s essential that you go meet him there, Dr. Watson. I guarantee you, it is a very urgent matter.” Anthea explained staring only at John.

John took a deep breath. Sebastian knew exactly what John was thinking, or _whom_ he was thinking about. They never mentioned _him_ ever since Mycroft took them away. In fact, they never mentioned either of _them_ ; but the ginger knew pretty well that both geniuses were always wandering inside John’s mind, him liking it or not. Seb wanted to grab John and hide him from Anthea, from Mycroft, from the world, but he would never be allowed to do so. John was the one with the last word in their relationship and that wouldn’t ever change. So he understood that whatever John decided, he would abide anyway.

“Alright. I’ll go to London.” John finally breathed.


	2. On the other side from you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!
> 
> Thank you all for the support, I'm glad you're enjoying the beginning. I have many ideas for this series and I hope you continue to like it. :D
> 
> Well, as usual this chapter is not beta's or britpicke'd so please forgive my mistakes!
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! ;*

 

Mycroft wondered if he should have asked Anthea to bring John to his office instead of the hospital.  It wouldn’t be fair to the boy – _now a full grown man_ , Mycroft remembered – but it would make the manipulation easier, knowing that Sherlock was just a few rooms away from him. Mycroft really didn’t want to call John back, but he had no choice. He had tried to clean his little brother of all the possible ways, some even a little too harsh for his own tastes. Nothing ever worked, though. Since John’s “disappearance” nine years ago, Sherlock had sunken deep down in the universe of drugs. For the first years it was manageable, although worrying, but at least Sherlock was keeping part of his mind clear so he could look for John. But after some time his baby brother lost almost all of his hope and the drugs were participating even more of his life, it was rare to arrive at the flat Mycroft paid for him and find him sane. He knew, though, that some part of Sherlock still believed John to be alive somewhere and still had hope they would see each other again, in fact Mycroft thought that was the only reason Sherlock hadn’t decided to put an end to his life yet. Although he clearly gave his best shot just the day before that. Sherlock had overdosed before, but that time was the worst.

Mycroft rubbed his temple with slightly sweaty fingertips. It bothered him to be anxious, he was never anxious. But when the subject was his little brother – or Gregory, but he tried not to admit it to himself – he partially lost control over his body reactions. He was leaned against a wall, absently tapping his umbrella on the white tilled floor. There was nothing in the room but a bed, two chairs and a bedside table. Mycroft had one man standing outside making sure no one came in. Anthea was supposed to bring John in about two minutes. He was not sure how the boy (man) would react, he had observed John and Sebastian for the past years, of course, and they seemed to be happy even after John’s injury. It was a healthy relationship that Mycroft knew Sherlock would never have with the blonde doctor.

There was a knock on the door. Mycroft squared his shoulders and cleared his throat. “Come in.”

The door opened revealing Anthea’s skinny figure. “Doctor Watson is here, sir.”

Mycroft nodded. “Let him in, please. And you can go.”

“Yes, sir.” Anthea closed the door and Mycroft took the chance to sit down on one of the grey chairs next to the bed.

The door opened half a minute later. Doctor John Watson entered the room visibly restraining himself not to look nervous. _John grew up so beautifully_ , Mycroft couldn’t help to think. It was true that the soldier doctor was still short in height, but that didn’t affect his pleasant features at all. The blonde hair was shorter now but looked as soft as always; the jeans and dark green jacket accentuated his nice figure; the scar on his face was still there, but if anything it only added charm; the ocean blue eyes were shinning with anticipation right at Mycroft, just like he remembered they did last time they met.

“Doctor Watson, please sit down.” Mycroft pointed to the chair in front of him.

John quickly acquiesced, crossing his ankles and clearing his throat. “You can call me John, Mycroft.” He said sharply.

“How is Sebastian?” Mycroft asked, keeping his voice even.

John sighed. “He is fine, waiting outside. Enough with the cheap talk, Mycroft. I know why I’m here, so why don’t you cut to the chase?”

Mycroft shifted uncomfortably. “You probably realized who’s also here, although I’m sure Anthea didn’t tell you anything.”

“Yes. He’s not on this floor though, is he?” John asked, voice a little raspy.

Mycroft shook his head. “He is on the last floor.” He looked up before turning his eyes on John again. “I’m sorry I dragged you to this mess again, John, especially since I was the one who took you out of it. But my brother will not leave this building alive if you don’t interfere.”

John’s body shivered slightly, Mycroft noticed. The blonde ran his hands across his tanned face and took a deep breath. “I can’t do this, Mycroft. I came here to tell you I won’t get close to Sherlock again. It’s not… It’s just not healthy. You know that. Besides, I’m with Seb now, and we’re so happy. I really don’t want to stain it, it’s the first sane relationship I really have.”

Mycroft was expecting John to say these things. “I know all of this, John. I’m not asking you to restart from where you stopped. All I ask is for you to talk to him. Let him see you’re alright.”

John stood up and paced around the room for some moments. “You know it’s not that simple. You know I won’t be able to just say: ‘hey Sherlock, I’m fine, stop with the drugs, bye bye’. If I see him again I don’t think I’ll be able to walk away. I… I miss him.” John sat on the edge of the bed, hiding his face with both hands.

Mycroft stood up and stepped closer to John, looking down to him. “John. I could threaten you, I could threaten Sebastian, and I could ask my men to point a gun to your head until you say yes. But I won’t. If you don’t want to do it, then don’t. But know that if you go away now he’ll die. And as much as you want to stay away from trouble, I know you don’t want him to die.”

John let his hands drop beside him. “Of course I don’t want him to die, Mycroft! I love him. God, after all this time I still love him. And you’re not making it easier. You know pretty well I won’t turn my back on him. Fuck!”

Mycroft waited some seconds to give John time to reorganize his thoughts. John stood up again and walked to the window, crossing his arms on his chest and looking away. Mycroft was sure John would agree eventually, the doctor was a great person and as he just admitted: he hasn’t stopped loving Sherlock. Mycroft also knew John was right, it wouldn’t be simple. Sherlock would not let John go, and he would not settle with just being friends. Moran would interfere between the two of them and a chaotic storm would begin. Mycroft felt sorry for John as he knew the man would be in the eye of the vortex, getting all the negativity and sticks and stones. But if it all meant Sherlock was alive and far away from the drugs, it would be well enough for Mycroft. At least until it started to get too sick like last time - which probably would eventually.

“How is he? I mean, bad I know, but… Conscious?” John finally asked, but without looking at Mycroft.

“Not when I left the room. They gave him too many medications.” Mycroft simply answered, trying not to push the man any more.

John turned his head but stared at his feet. “I… Do you… Do you have any news…” John cleared his throat before continuing, “Do you have any news from James Moriarty? I know he’s alive, Seb confessed some years ago.”

Mycroft was a bit startled by the name. Actually he had been reading and listening to it quite a lot lately. It was the second thing in his top ten most important matters, right after Sherlock’s wellbeing. John’s absence brought more chaos to the world than Mycroft could have imagined it. Moriarty started with small services watched by his father, but two years after John was gone Mr. Moriarty was found dead in an abandoned house in the countryside. Mycroft knew that was James’ doing, after all he wanted completely control over the web. Soon the services got bigger and more dangerous: assassinations, espionage, dictatorship’s sponsorships, and the list just grew. Mycroft knew all of this and he surely knew where Moriarty lived but he didn’t have any proof or anything to connect him with all the crimes, so he just couldn’t arrest the man as much as he wanted to.

John was not allowed to know all of that, so instead he said, “Just that he still lives in London. Nothing more.”

John hummed thoughtfully. “Alright, Mycroft. I’ll see him. I’m not sure if I’m doing the right thing but it’s what I feel I should do. I worry about Sherlock and I want the best for him, so yes. Take me to him.”

\--

Sebastian clasped his hands nervously between his thighs on the chair in the waiting room. John was taking too long talking with Mycroft, or maybe time was slower to Seb since he wasn’t with his boyfriend. He hated it, hated Anthea, hated Mycroft, hated Sherlock, and hated this entire situation. John and he were so happy together, some troubles on the way but they always worked it out. All Sebastian wanted was to run away with John again, to a place where none of this mess would find them. They were through so much when they were younger, all with their families and the geniuses. They deserved some peace. For Sebastian, the war was nothing compared to the emotional destruction they had in their adolescence. And now Mycroft – the one who had thankfully hid them away – was pulling them back to the monster’s mouth. Sebastian needed to find a way to spare John of all the drama that was about to come, he just had to figure out how.

His thoughts were interrupted by the white door opening. John walked out of there with his head down and his hands behind his back. Sebastian stood up and without saying a word he wrapped the smaller man in his arms, hugging him tight. It took a few seconds for John to react, but he grabbed the ginger’s waist and hid his face on his broad shoulder. Seb kissed his blonde hair tenderly, rubbing patterns on his back. “It’s alright, my love. Whatever you decide, I’ll be here for you. I’ll protect you, okay? Promise.”

John pulled back so he could peck Sebastian on the lips. “Thanks, Seb. I love you. Remember that, yes?”

Sebastian took John’s face in his hands and kissed him on the nose, on the cheeks and finally on his lips. “I love you too. More than anything.”

There was a tap on the floor next to them, and Sebastian knew pretty well who that was but he decided to ignore him. John also ignored for a few moments, just staring back at Sebastian with those beautiful blue azurite eyes. They leaned to each other again and kissed some more, not caring if they had an audience. Eventually John had to step back, but grabbing Seb’s hand tightly on his. “Okay, Mycroft. We can go.”

“I think it’s better if we go on our own.” The older Holmes said with that smug tone of his.

“Since I’m deciding to go, I think it’s only fair I choose who I want to go with. And I’m not going without my boyfriend.” John said sternly, using his lieutenant’s tone. Seb smirked with pride for this man who was his. Mycroft said nothing, only nodded resignedly and pointed the direction to the lift. Anthea and the guard just stayed where they were while the three of them entered the transport.

The younger Holmes was on the last floor in the last room, and of course there was another guard standing there staring at nothing. When they stopped outside the bedroom, Seb looked at John who seemed quite determined for who didn’t know him well. Sebastian, however knew him better than anyone and realized how scared his boyfriend was. Squeezing his hand tighter the ginger pulled his man for a chaste kiss. “Okay?” He asked, even though he knew nothing was okay now.

John nodded and tried a weak smile before turning to Mycroft. “Why the guard?”

Mycroft hesitated before answering. “Just precaution.”

Sebastian noticed the man was lying but he let it be, didn’t really care about either Holmes. As far as he was concerned they could both burn in hell, but of course he wouldn’t wish that as it would bring great pain to his love.

“Alright, I’m coming in. Seb, would you please stay at the door?” John asked looking up at him.

“Of course, my love.” Sebastian reassured.

Mycroft didn’t seem happy about it, but neither Seb nor John gave a shit. The older man rolled the doorknob and opened the door slowly. John pressed Sebastian’s hand to his lips and then let it go. He wanted to chase the warm body again but instead he followed his boyfriend until the threshold, leaned on the doorframe just watching as John walked closer to the bed where a very pale and skinny Sherlock Holmes slept. The dark curled hair genius looked phantasmagoric and he could almost blend in with the white sheets on the layer. There were a few machines around there that were beeping and making odd noises; Sebastian only recognized the one that showed very slow heartbeats.

Mycroft stood a few steps away from John, who was now sitting on the chair closest to Sherlock’s left side. The man was still like a stone, completely unconscious as far as Sebastian could tell. John just sat there for a while, but eventually speaking. “Hey, Sherlock.”

Maybe it was just Seb’s impression but the heartbeats on the monitor seemed to speed a little. John reached a hand and laid it on the top of Sherlock’s own. _Oh_ , Sebastian would be lying if he said he didn’t feel any kind of jealousy. He let it go, though, for he knew it was silly, after all John was only comforting a moribund person, right? Wasn’t that what everybody did with hospital patients? They took their hand to let them know everything was alright; and John was a doctor, he knew the procedure. Still… Seb shook his head when he clearly heard the heartbeats accelerating. Mycroft moved his weight from one foot to the other and John squeezed Sherlock’s hand harder.

“Wake up for me, Sherlock. It’s me, John. I came back.”

As if hearing John, the younger Holmes slowly opened his eyes. Everyone in the room caught their breath. Sherlock gasped in surprise as he seemed to finally look at John for the first time in nine years. Sebastian watched as the weak man grasped the blonde’s hand with all the little strength he had. From his position Seb couldn’t tell for sure, but it looked like there were tears in Sherlock’s eyes. The voice that came out of his mouth was hoarse and full of desperation.

“ _John_.”


	3. Everybody wants to rule the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there!
> 
> Thank you all for the comments/kudos/bookmarks, they make my day happier and give more inspiration, that's for sure! :D
> 
> Forgive my mistakes, please, this is still not beta'd or britpicke'd.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! :*

 

Sherlock Holmes woke up from a nine year old sleep. For all the time the love of his life was gone Sherlock was on the autopilot with one objective only: to find John. But all the frustration and failure to do so just made him sink even further in the drugs; he wanted to make his mind work like never before so he could find his boyfriend soon, but at the same time he wanted to make all of his thoughts go away to see if the pain stopped. It didn’t matter how many drugs he took, it was never enough. Nothing could ever erase John and all the hurt and suffering that came with loving him. So Sherlock thought it would be nice to unplug the machine cables and just go away to wherever his John was. With that in mind he shot himself the strongest dose of heroin he had ever had. When darkness came he felt maximum relief.

So when Sherlock started to see a light in the middle of all the hollowness and loneliness of his mind, he reacted. There was nothing but that golden dot coming his direction, and the closer it go the more Sherlock could feel its warmth. The genius reached his hand to try to grab it but he couldn’t, instead the light took him all, filling him with sounds, tastes, smells, sensations that reminded him of one thing and one thing only. The thing he loved more in the entire world. His life, his air.

Sherlock opened his eyes.

 _My light, my sun_.

Nine years and John still emanated the same beautiful glow Sherlock kept locked away inside his most adored room in his Mind Palace. His face had the maturity of somebody who had been through a lot even in a young age, but still held some of the lightness from his teenage years; his ocean eyes were the same Sherlock loved to stare at, with maybe a new hint of wisdom in them; some strands of his soft hair were lighter than others due sunburns; the hand that squeezed Sherlock’s was calloused, but warm and Sherlock wanted more. He squeezed back with everything he had on his weak useless body. All the emotions he had repressed and concealed through all those years were finally raining over him. _Is John really here? Or is it just my imagination? He feels so real._

 _“John.”_ He said, voice barely audible but showing everything he couldn’t say.

John smiled at him and Sherlock thought his chest was about to explode with all the fire gathered there. “Welcome back, Sherlock.” His boyfriend said, and indeed he was right. Sherlock without John was _nothing,_ just a lifeless creature barely _being_.

“A-Are you real?” Sherlock whispered, forcing his voice to come out.

“Yes. Of course, of course I am.” John’s eyes had a gleam that could light up Paris.

“Prove it”, Sherlock breathed, heart beating impossibly faster.

John looked hesitant for a moment before lowering his head and gently pressing his lips to Sherlock’s forehead. The genius felt – as cliché as it might sound – like he could fly. He had missed John beyond words. In fact, the word _miss_ was far from being enough to represent what John’s absence did to him. It was like he had been shattered into a thousand pieces and swept away to the deepest part of an alley’s trash bin.

“John.” He repeated the name as if it was his prayer. It was. “Why… Why did you leave me?”

John’s brow furrowed and Sherlock wanted to kiss it away; his boyfriend shouldn’t be upset. Why was he upset? Everything would be alright now, they were together again. But it was only when John touched his cheek tenderly with his warm and slightly sweaty fingertips that Sherlock noticed his face was wet. He was _crying_. Sherlock was not one to cry, and the only few times he did John Watson was the reason. John was always his reason to everything unnatural and unusual he had felt and done in his life. And now Sherlock cried of happiness for being reunited with his love again but also of sadness for being apart from him for so long. He couldn’t control his body as he started sobbing when John sat on the edge of his bed and took him into his strong and warm arms.

“I’m here now. Shh, it’s okay.” John soothed him, kissing and nuzzling his dark curls.

Sherlock lifted his body so he could properly grip John as tight as he could. He thought that if kept John there pressed so safe and close his boyfriend would never leave him again. _John is mine again._ “John…” That seemed to be the only word Sherlock could pronounce perfectly.

“Yes?” John tried to pull back but Sherlock kept him in place.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

John laughed, apparently unsurprised by Sherlock’s deduction. When he spoke, his breath hit Sherlock’s head and the warmth was more than welcome. “Afghanistan, you brilliant git.”

“Why? Why did you risk your life? Why did you go away, John?” Sherlock asked, his voice trembling. He wasn’t mad at John – he could never be mad at John. But he failed to understand why his boyfriend would do such a terrible thing as to leave him. And then… Then he noticed - for the first time after he woke up - that they were not alone in the room. _Mycroft_. His brother was standing still a few meters away from the bed, emotion concealed in his cold expression. When Sherlock turned his head a bit more, he saw another person. _Moran?_ Yes, that was Sebastian Moran. Sherlock blinked a couple of times, momentarily taken aback by his presence until he looked back at Mycroft and _understood_.

“YOU!” He growled at his brother. “YOU TOOK JOHN AWAY FROM ME!” He practically shouted at the last sentence.

“Sherlock…” John tried to calm him unsuccessfully; his rage was devastating.

“You stole John away from me! You hid him with Moran and blocked every single way I could possibly use to find him!” Sherlock screamed and the only thing that stopped him from getting out of bed and attacking his obnoxious brother was his weak body that wouldn’t handle standing on his own feet. “For NINE YEARS you saw me perishing without John, and still you acted as if he was truly gone! You killed me for NINE YEARS, Mycroft!”

“I was trying to protect you, brother.” Mycroft said evenly, and that only made Sherlock’s blood boil more.

“Protect?! How is keeping me away from John protecting me?!” Sherlock exclaimed.

Mycroft stepped forward, but Sherlock pointed a finger at him.

“Don’t get any closer! You shouldn’t even be in the same room as John and I!” Sherlock snapped.

“You can’t see it, you’re too involved with John to—“ His fucker of a brother started to say but Sherlock interrupted him with a snarl.

“Don’t you DARE say my boyfriend’s name!”

There was a sound of a throat being cleaned coming from the door, and Sherlock would have ignored it if John hadn’t stiffened visibly beside him. Sherlock looked at John and saw uncertainty and a hint of fear in his expression. And then he turned to glare at Moran who had walked until the bed’s feet, arms crossed on his chest and expression harsh.

“I’m sorry you suffered, Sherlock, I can imagine the pain you felt. I used to feel the same thing when John _was_ your boyfriend.” Moran said, tone cold.

Sherlock frowned. “First of all, you _couldn’t_ possibly imagine what I felt. Second, John _is_ my boyfriend.” He almost growled possessively, baring his teeth.

“No, he’s not. We’re together, Sherlock. We’ve been through a lot all these years just counting on each other. He is _my_ boyfriend now.” Moran easily explained, and Sherlock wanted to rip his face off for looking so smug and confident.

Sherlock felt his face going red; he even forgot Mycroft’s presence in the room. He turned to look at John who was clasping his hands together and staring down. “John? He is lying, isn’t he? You’re still mine. Right? John?”

“No, Sherlock. I’m with Sebastian now.” John said without looking him in the eyes.

Sherlock shook his head, feeling agitated. “No, that’s not right. We belong together, John. I love you, I love you more than anyone else in this world could possibly be capable of loving another person. We’re one, John. You know that. Tell Moran that.”

John stepped back slowly and Sherlock quickly grabbed his wrist. That caught John’s attention and he finally glared at Sherlock. “It’s been nine years, Sherlock. I thought you had moved on. I did… I- I love you too, but it’s different. Please, don’t make this harder than already is.”

“John!” Sherlock shifted his body so he could grasp John’s shoulder with his other hand. “How could I move on without you? That is nothing without you. How how do you… I don’t believe it. You’re here now, you came back to me. You still love me. Therefore we belong together. Yes? Finish whatever foolish you started with Moran. I won’t be mad, you were also sad and lonely. But now I’m here, it’s okay. Deep down you know you never stopped being mine. Don’t you, John?” Sherlock said it all in one breath and after a while his need and instinct were taking over his mind, knocking his walls down. Although his walls were always down when the matter was his John.

“I know John wasn’t planning on telling you now, but I just couldn’t be here watching quietly while you claimed something that it’s not yours.” Sebastian uncrossed his arms. “In fact, John is no one’s. He belongs to himself, and he does what he wants. If anything is anyone’s around here, it’s us. I guess we can say for sure we’re both John’s.”

Sherlock couldn’t disagree with his last sentence. He was John’s, of course he was. But John was his too. And if he had forgotten that, Sherlock would make sure of reminding him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you miss Jim? Don't worry, he'll appear soon! :D


	4. I live in a hologram with you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!!
> 
> Well, it's very late here, but I wanted to post this tonight so I'm really sorry if there are too many mistakes! I promise I will come back to look more carefully when I'm not so sleepy :D
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! :**

 

Jim entered his office, and as soon as he did that sense of relief and agony surrounded him. He felt it every time he got inside the room - as he was meant to feel; after all he did put the large portrait on the wall, right behind his mahogany desk. The photograph so beautifully framed in golden and red reminded him of the time where he had everything. It’s true that some people might say he does have everything at present, with all his criminal empire and mansions and money; but those were nothing without John to share them with him. He would trade all of his fortune and power to have John back in his arms. Those ocean blue eyes stared right back at him through the picture, giving him shivers, and that smile warmed him up entirely. Jim remembered pretty well when he took that photo of John. The blonde had just won a rugby match and the first thing he did was running to Jim’s arms, hugging him tight. Jim could almost smell the sweet sweat on his skin, and that adorable flushness that gave an innocent look on his boy’s angelical face. That was over nine years ago and Jim still thought John Watson was the most beautiful thing he had ever and will ever see.

Jim admired the photograph for some more minutes as he always did before sitting down on his imposing armchair. Before Jim started with his business, it was customary for him to check his ‘John tab’ where everyone who worked for him posted updates about their search for his boy. Finding John was one of the main reasons Jim decided to assume his father’s work, creating something much more powerful than his late old man could have possibly done. Jim had the motivation and the determination. He wasn’t a fan of getting his hands dirty – he’d rather have people doing that for him – but he thought he owned his father some respect, so he decided choked the man with his bare hands before making it look like something else.

His men had never found anything significant, and they even had dared asking him to stop the search once; no need to say they regretted it entirely. Jim knew with all his heart – that only beat for John – his boy was alive. There was no doubt in his mind, and he was certain that one day he would find him, and when that happened there would be no force in the world that would be able to keep them apart.

So Jim clicked on the ‘John tab’ and almost fell off his chair when he read the most recent update. It said a blonde man matching John’s description was seeing entering St. Bart’s, it had been posted by one of his most trustful men. Jim had infiltrated men in all important buildings around London and some other cities in the globe, sometimes they had a false alarm, but this time the man had mentioned the scar… The scar Jim had given John all those years ago. He got shivers down his spine at the thought, that regret was still entailed in him but he shook the feeling away. He quickly typed an order, asking for a photograph and a confirmation of ID. He could barely wait to know if it truly was _his_ John.

Five minutes later – that seemed more like five centuries – there was a notification on the tab and a large zooned photo appeared with a message below.

“ID confirms Doctor John Hamish Watson.”

Jim had to swallow, fearing his heart would go out through his throat any moment.  The man on the photo looked exactly as his John but like an older version. _Of course he would be older, nine years, Jim!_ Time did him well, though. Extremely well, in fact. John had muscled and firm body, his face was mature but held that adorableness Jim loved; the quality of the image wasn’t doing his beautiful face any justice, but the blue shiny eyes were still quite visible. Jim didn’t think it was possible, but John actually looked _sexier_. _God, I miss you so much, Johnny. I can’t wait to have you in my arms safe and sound._

Jim turned off the computer, got up, put his coat on and flew out of the room. He spat the hospital’s name to his driver as he entered the car. He couldn’t help but clasping his hands in anxiety. He was only human-like when the matter was Johnny; his blonde was the only person that could actually extract feelings from him. For all those nine years, the only thing that kept Jim going were his hopes that his boy was around and he would find him eventually. And now he finally did. He finally did.

_Daddy’s coming, Johnny_.

\--

“Why can’t I look, Seb? What are you planning, you naughty boy?” John laughed, his warm hands gripping Seb’s shirt tightly.

Sebastian was covering his eyes and guiding him slowly to the hotel’s room he had booked for the night. They had gotten out of the hospital as soon as a nurse had arrived in the room to put Sherlock to sleep again. The dark haired man had complained and started to scream and shout John’s name, trying to get out of bed and pushing on the nurse violently. John tried to intervene but Seb had grabbed him by the elbow gently and said that it would be better if they just went away. John agreed before looking at Mycroft who gave an almost imperceptible nod while helping the nurse holding Sherlock down on the bed. They could hear Sherlock’s pleas from the corridor, and Seb noticed how John flinched at the exclamations. He felt bad for the other man, but he needed to be clear about John being compromised with no intention of letting go of Sebastian. Still, he knew his boyfriend felt terrible about the situation and he wanted to make him feel better. John’s happiness was his responsibility, and he would do anything to make sure his man was happy even in the worse circumstances.

John had tears in his eyes when they got outside the hospital through the back doors. Seb wrapped the shorter man on his arms tightly and buried his face on John’s soft blonde hair. “Shh, it’s okay. He’ll be okay. If you want, we can come back tomorrow. Alright? Think he’ll sleep for now, he won’t be in pain.” Sebastian whispered to his love, feeling the silky touch of the blonde locks on his lips.

“I’m sorry, Seb, this is not fair for you.” John said between his sobs.

“Don’t worry about me, baby.” Sebastian kissed the top of his head tenderly.

“I… I’m always hurting everyone around me. One minute here and I already feel like that vulnerable boy who left all those years ago…”

Sebastian caught John’s head with both his hands, thumbs caressing his boyfriend’s cheeks. “It’s okay to feel fragile and vulnerable sometimes. I do too. But I know you are my beautiful brave warrior. And I love you so much.”

After that John had kissed him and they just stood there hugging each other for a few more moments until John calmed down. They held hands and walked to the nearest café. Seb ordered for both of them, and told John he would go to the loo but would be back in a bit. He did go to the bathroom, but instead of peeing he enjoyed the unlocked wifi to find what he needed and then to call the fanciest hotel around and ask them to prepare the best suite they had; then he called the floriculture and the sweetshop. The main event, though, Sebastian had in his pocket for a long time already. He wanted everything to be perfect for John, he needed and deserve it right now; besides, Seb intended to ask ‘the’ question soon so he thought the timing was perfect and to be completely honest, a part of him was crazy to see Sherlock’s reaction to John wearing Sebastian’s ring.

They left the café some time later and since they got inside the cab, Seb had covered John’s eyes saying there was a surprise somewhere for him. So that’s where they were at the moment, Sebastian locking the door of the hotel room behind him with one hand while he used his palm to comically cover John’s entire face. His boyfriend laughed some more. “Seb! Tell me. Can I see now?” He spoke, voice muffled by the ginger’s hand.

Seb chuckled and removed his hand, circling his boyfriend’s waist from behind. John’s mouth was a perfect ‘O’ and he looked around with an unbelievable expression on his beautiful face. Sebastian was proud of the workers; they had done a great job. The hotel room itself was beautiful, with a large bed covered in silk sheets, a big glassy panel showing London’s night lights, and in the other room he knew they would find the hot tub. But Sebastian knew what would impress John more were all the red daises spread on the king size bed, and the cupcake basket prettily wrapped in a transparent light green plastic with a big velvety yellow lasso.

“Seb… This is…” John stared at the place for some more time before turning around and looking at Sebastian with a blushed face and teary eyes. “Perfect. This is perfect. You’re perfect. I have no words to describe what I am feeling… This day started so… I thought everything was going downhill, but you… Seb! You always make it better. You’re always there for me. You’re my safe-heaven, you’re everything good in my life. I’m so lucky to have you.” John took Seb by his neck and pulled him down to kiss him deeply on the mouth before pulling back but resting his arms on the taller man’s shoulders. “I love you so much, Seb. Thank you for existing.”

Seb gathered John in his arms and kissed him some more before breaking apart and walking a few steps away. John looked quizzically at him, brows adorably frowned. _This is it, the perfect moment. I’ve been waiting for so long to do it._

“John… You’re the love of my life. I cannot imagine existing without you, and every single second we spend apart is like torture for me – and we both know how torture feels like. I’ve loved you for so long, to be honest I think I loved you since the first time you talked to me. I will never love anyone as much as I love you, unless this person has our last names and calls you papa.” Sebastian smiled and pulled the little blue box out of his trousers’ pocket. John’s face was covered by tears and he had a beautiful smile on his flushed cheek as Seb knelt on the floor and reached his hand, opening the little box to show the beautiful golden band. “Doctor John Hamish Watson, would you give me the honor of being your husband?”

John didn’t hesitate at all. “God, yes! Definitely yes. Abso-fucking-lutely yes!”

Seb stood up and gently put the ring on John’s cute finger, kissing it softly right before lifting John out of the floor and holding him with both arms. “I think that deserves a celebration. Don’t you?”

“Oh I was thinking about the cupcakes, actually.” John said seriously, but when Seb looked at him bemusedly, the blonde started to laugh out loud. “I’m joking, you git! Now, be a good fiancé and take me to our _huge_ bed!”

Sebastian kissed his forehead and started to walk, but when he headed towards the opposite side of the bed, John poked him. “Oi! Aren’t we going to celebrate there?”

Seb only grinned wide before kicking the white door of the bathroom. Even he was impressed with how large the hot tub was – and better, the water was already ready for them. Sebastian carefully brought John down and they started to undress each other as fast as they could. By the time they entered the tub, they were both achingly hard and needy. John didn’t waste any time in straddling the ginger’s lap and resting his hands on his broad chest.

“Now that I remembered… Last time you didn’t get to come. That was not fair. I think we must certainly remediate it. Don’t you?’ John said with his most seductive voice. He knew it drove Sebastian crazy. Well, the entirety of John drove Sebastian crazy.

“I think that’s precise. What would you suggest to make things right?” Seb asked, feigning an innocent air he knew John loved.

“I suggest this…” John simply lifted his hips and lowered himself onto Seb’s big cock. They both moaned at the same time when John finally sat back, with the ginger’s member completely buried inside of him. “Oh Seb… You make me feel so full!” John groaned, closing his eyes and throwing his head back.

Sebastian shivered at John’s words, he loved when they talked dirty but he had a suspicious they wouldn’t last longer as they were both so desperate for each other. “John! You’re so gorgeous. Oh my god, please ride me. Ride me, baby.”

And John did so. He started slowly at first, up and down Seb’s cock. But then he lost control and the pace got fast and sloppy but most definitely hot. There was water splashing all over the place and they both looked like a debauched mess, but completely happy about it. John held both hands on Seb’s shoulders to support himself as he increased his speed. “Oh fuck, Seb! I’m going to come only with your cock inside me. Feels so good to have you in me, my captain. We feel like… One.”

That was all it took for Sebastian to shout John’s name as he came deep down his fiancé. John followed shortly after. They just stayed there breathing hard and covered in semen, sweat and warm water. John hid his face on the ginger’s neck while Seb circled the blonde’s back with his strong arms. “What do you want to do now, baby?” He asked still a bit breathless.

John chuckled. “Hmm… Cupcakes?”


	5. But you won't see me fall apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!
> 
> Thank you all for the support! And please excuse my mistakes, this chapter is not beta'd or britpicke'd, alright?
> 
> Hope you enjoy it! (:

 

Jim couldn’t believe his timing. He never failed to achieve an objective, except for when this objective was John. The blonde would always be his inconstant constant. It was not even needed to say that the men in charge of watching John in St. Bart’s were going to be “discharged” for allowing his boy to slip away. _Man, not boy_ , Jim remembered. And what a man! Jim couldn’t wait to just wrap his arms around John and have him on any available surface. He was thinking about that when he heard something that called his attention immediately.

“I know! There were some screaming, but what would you expect from Holmes anyway?” One of the nurses whispered to the other who leaned against the counter.

Jim stopped right on his tracks down the corridor and knelt there pretending he was tying his shoelaces.

“But I’ve never heard him screaming so much like today… Usually he’s just an arrogant bastard, but today he sounded… Desperate.” The other nurse said, absently turning a pen on her fingers.  

“I think that had something to do with the cute blonde that visited him.”

“Oh I saw him! Really handsome, I’d definitely chat him up if he wasn’t with that other super-hot dude. Did you see him too?”

“Hell yeah, so tall and muscled. But do you think they were like… Together?”

“Yeah, sweetie, I saw them kissing. Right in front of me, dear lord! I don’t know if I found that hot or annoying!”

Jim had heard enough; he stood up and quickly walked away. He couldn’t see himself at the moment but he was pretty sure his face looked flushed and red as a pepper. It seemed like Holmes always got there first, it didn’t matter where there was. How did his men fail to inform him of that? The simple fact that Mister Sherlock Holmes was the one being visited by his John. He needed to hear from those obnoxious nurses who deserved to have their necks twisted for talking about his man that way. Their conversation, however, lifted several points Jim was still processing while he quickly traveled through the hospital after Holmes’ room. Of course he had other men already in position to replace the men he dispatched - the magic of texting did allow that – so Jim took his phone off his pocket again and typed furiously.

So _his_ John had a _boyfriend_? According to the distasteful nurses the man was tall and muscled. _Now now, Johnny came to the hospital with his_ boyfriend _to visit_ Holmes _?_ It was easy to deduce why the detective was there, after all Jim had known about his ins and outs across the years. He also was fast to understand that Mycroft Holmes was probably the one that called John back – from wherever he was, which Jim would find out as soon as he got his hands on him – but the real problem, the one thing that was confusing Jim was this _boyfriend_ business. His mind involuntarily built an image of Sebastian Moran as an adult, but he shook his thoughts away. Moran ran away, there was no reason he would be with John, especially when he was still a police fugitive.

His phone buzzed with Holmes’ room number. When he got out of the lift, he was not surprised to see some guards outside the room. But he was Jim Moriarty and some thugs most certainly didn’t scare him. Approaching the door the men just crossed arms and looked at him from head to toe. “What’s your business here?”

“I’m a colleague of Sherlock’s. Came to visit him.” Jim said, displaying his most amicable smile.

The two henchmen exchanged wary glances before staring back at Jim again. “Name?” One of them asked.

“Richard Brook”, he simply answered, still with a cheerful expression.

Thug number one narrowed his eyes, looked at his partner and opened the door to enter the room, closing it right after. Jim waited for some moments until he came back. “You can come in”, the hulk said, gesturing the Irish man to get inside.

Closing the door behind him, Jim stared at the pale and weak creature lying down on the bed. Sherlock Holmes looked… Devastated. It would be a pleasure to see him like that in any other occasion, but now Jim thought he could possibly find himself in the same situation after hearing the news – the truth behind John’s _boyfriend_. Jim took a seat next to the bed, clasping his hands on his lap. Holmes had clearly being sedated, but his willpower kept him sane although adynamic.  Jim had to admire that.

“Richard Brook”, Holmes scoffed weakly.

“I knew you would remember it”, Jim grinned.

He had played some games with Holmes in their first years right after John had disappeared. It was a way to relieve their rage on their boyfriend’s vanishing. At some point Jim had used a fake ID to infiltrate in one of Sherlock’s cases, only to interrupt and disorganize his line of reasoning. They pinched each other until it started to mess with their investigation on John’s disappearance. Their fight could wait; John would always come first.

“Moran”, Sherlock said, voice hoarse and low.

Jim froze. “H-How?” He hated how his voice betrayed his insecurity.

Sherlock barely turned his head on the pillow. “Mycroft…”

It took a second for Jim to understand everything. He suddenly stood up, clenching his fists beside his body. “I’m going to rip his guts out and strangle him with them!” Jim shouted, pacing around the place.

“Trust me, I’d do it if it was possible…” Sherlock grimaced as if in pain. “You’re lucky he isn’t here… He went out to… Eat cake or something.”

“How could you…” Jim stopped for a moment and took a deep breath. “How could you let John go again? He was _here_!” Just the fact of John being there in the room he was now, touching the same things, breathing the same air…

“As you can see, I can barely move… But believe me when I say I tried.” Sherlock exhaled heavily. “John is with Moran. They’ve been together all this time while we…” He closed his eyes for a moment. “I just let you in so you could suffer too.” He admitted, voice smug even in that tone.

“Are you going to let it be?” Jim said in exasperation, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’m not! John is mine! He just has to remember where he belongs to!”

Holmes chuckled darkly. “Nine years… And you still have this absurd fantasy that John is yours…” He sighed. “If you really think I’m going to watch while Moran takes what it’s mine… You don’t know me at all.”

Suddenly something clicked into Jim’s mind. “We could…”

“No, we couldn’t.” Holmes cut him off.

“We’ve been waiting, looking, _despairing_... For NINE YEARS! We had him before Moran! I say we work together on this, get Moran out of the way and then we let the real competition begin.”

“Did you hit your head on your way here? How can you possibly think I’ll work with you? You hurt John! In so many ways! He still carries the scar you gave him. If I wasn’t so debilitated, I’d kill you right here right now, Moriarty.” Sherlock was panting heavily at the end of his speech.

Jim shut his eyes tight; the little bug called guilt had eaten him from the inside since it happened. “You’ll have plenty of time to do whatever you want with me, Holmes. Maybe even torture me again.” Jim dropped his brown eyes to stare at cold grey ones. “But before that happens, Moran needs to evaporate. And we’ll only—“

“No! I can take care of it myself, I d—“

“We did that before, didn’t we? We took care of business on our own, going against each other as Moran stole John away.”

Holmes stared at the ceiling, considering his next words for some minutes. Finally he tilted his head so he was glaring at the Irish genius. “One shot. We’ll try it once. If it doesn’t work, I’ll attack by myself.”

Jim grinned.

\--

“Doctor Moran-Watson or Doctor Watson-Moran?” John wondered, caressing Seb’s short ginger hair while the taller man laid his head on the blonde’s stomach – they were both lazy and dizzy form their lovemaking marathon.

“Doctor Moran”, Seb teased, kissing John’s bare bellybutton softly.

John chuckled. “Would you mind being called Captain Watson?”

“That would be a bit confusing, wouldn’t it?” Seb shifted his head so he was looking John in the eyes. “Dr. John Watson-Moran. I like it.” He smiled.

“What about honeymoon?” John considered, running his hands across Sebastian’s freckled arm. “Is it too early to think about that?”

Seb grinned widely, moving to kiss John’s nose. “It’s never too early for anything you want, my love.”

“Oh yeah? What if I want to think about kids?” John mused, reaching out to trace Sebastian’s strong features with his fingertips.

Sebastian had goosebumps at the thought. If John thought it was early to think about those things, what would he say if he found out Seb had been picturing his entire life with the doctor for as long as he can remember? “Elizabeth and Edward Watson-Moran. She will have your hair and my eyes; he’ll have my freckles and your dimples.”

John was quiet for a moment, and Sebastian thought he probably said too much. But then he noticed the tears threatening to fall down from John’s beautiful dark blue eyes. He immediately moved to sit down next to his beloved. Carefully, not to alarm him, Seb cupped the blonde’s face in his hands.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? I was just, I mean… I didn--”

“Perfect.” John said in a very weak voice. “Elizabeth and Edward. Perfect names for our perfect children. I…” He bit his bottom lip while the tears finally crossed their borders. “I never thought I could have such a good life… Being a doctor, getting married to the man I love… It all seems too good to be true. Am I dreaming?”

Seb kissed John deeply and passionately, then pulled back just so he could whisper. “Does this seem like dreaming to you?” He smiled breathless.

John giggled and hid his face on Seb’s shoulders; the ginger wrapped his hands around the man’s waist tightly while John held his back. “We’ll be happy. Even if…”

Sebastian closed his eyes. “Even if they try to bring us apart.”

“We’ll fight them. We’re warriors.”


	6. You ask me to enter but then you make me crawl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!
> 
> Thank you all for the support, they mean the world to me! (:
> 
> This chapter is not beta'd or britpicke'd, so I'm sorry for all the mistakes!
> 
> Hope you enjoy it :*

 

Sherlock tapped his foot indignantly on the cold tiles of the hospital’s floor. He wished he could just run away from Mycroft’s claws once and for all, but he knew better. His brother would never give him peace until he was convinced Sherlock was healthy and well; besides, the fat arsehole would do everything to prevent Sherlock meeting John again, and he knew how much Mycroft was capable of doing that. So he just waited impatiently while his brother signed him out, all the time machinating what he would have to do to make Mycroft think he was alright enough to live on his own. It wouldn’t be easy – his brother was much smarter than he gave him credit for – but Sherlock knew he had some kind of power over the presumptuous bastard. He sighed and crossed his arms. There was also another thought bothering him at the moment, and that was ‘teaming up’ with Moriarty. Obviously he had a sidetrack plan, but still… Just imagining himself talking with the Irishman and discussing John was infuriating. Unfortunately and annoyingly the other genius was right; they had tried on their own once and it did nothing but pushing John away. Sherlock held to the feeling of knowing that in the end he would be the one with John.

“We’re ready to go, Sherlock.” Mycroft said, stepping calmly in front of him.

The younger Holmes chose to say nothing; he just stood up from the uncomfortable chair and walked out, his brother following him behind. Sherlock was looking forward to coming back to Baker Street, but not because of his landlady or because it felt like home – it never felt like home, nothing ever did without John. He just wanted some privacy to go looking for John’s hotel; he would have to be extremely discreet and attentive so Mycroft wouldn’t find out.

“Sherlock”, his older brother said once they entered the black sedan. “I expect you to stay inside the flat so you can recover properly.”

“I don’t need to recover, brother. I feel just fine.” Sherlock retorted.

“I can see that”, Mycroft muttered, shaking his head.

Fortunately his brother decided to keep quiet for some other minutes until his cellphone rang. Sherlock ignored it and just kept staring outside the car’s window. The sky was cloudy as usual but he could see a thin patch of sun hitting gently on his pale face. Sherlock couldn’t help but smiling at this; even London’s sky knew John was in town. He brought up light to everything, his John.

“Oh”, Mycroft’s surprised tone caught Sherlock’s attention and he turned his head to look at his brother. “Are you sure of that? I was thinking about arranging it in other circumstances in the future, so you don’t have to—Do you insist? Oh well then, I’d advise you not to—Yes, congratulations, but you really should—Fine, but you’re warned.” Mycroft sighed and reached his hand so Sherlock could take the phone. Sherlock frowned for a moment. “It’s John.” His brother said resignedly.

Sherlock immediately picked the phone, his heart beating impossibly faster. “John? Is everything okay? Are you alright?” He spoke it all in one breath.

“Hi Sherlock”, John’s voice didn’t sound sad, but maybe a little contained. “I’m alright. How are you feeling?”

“I’m better now that I’m talking to you. John…” Sherlock started but John interrupted him.

“Hold on, Sherlock. This is Mycroft’s phone, I want to be fast.” John took a deep breath. “Let’s meet, yes? In that café we used to go. What do you think?”

Sherlock had to control the urge to jump and rip his face off with a gigantic smile. “I think it’s perfect, John. Is seven pm alright for you?” He tried to keep his voice as even as possible.

“Sure. See you there.” John said, hanging up.

Mycroft took his phone back and looked at Sherlock in a serious and concern way the younger man didn’t mind deducing then. He was way too ecstatic to care about anything but John wanting to meet with him. _John_ came to him; he didn’t even need to stalk the doctor. _My doctor._

“Sherlock, are you sure it’s prudent?” His obnoxious brother spoke, startling him out of his reveries.

The younger genius snorted. “I will meet with John. there’s nothing more prudent, brother.”

Mycroft shook his head. “Don’t get your hopes up, little brother.”

Sherlock decided he wouldn’t let his despicable brother interfere with his good mood. John wanted to meet up with him. John actually wanted to see him. John. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the leather seat. The day was promising to be better than he first thought.

\--

Sherlock had looked at his reflection in the mirror a thousand times before he left 221b. He had chosen a tight purple shirt and his usual dark suit; his hair was strategically mussed, the way he remembered John liked. He put his wallet and a little package containing a gift he had bought John some hours earlier. After spraying John’s favourite perfume and turning off the lights, Sherlock got out.

He hadn’t gone to that café since John disappeared but the place looked exactly the same. Not too informal but not really formal either. He opened the door and sat on one of the end booths, knowing John would appreciate the privacy. Fortunately he had to wait only a couple more minutes before his love showed up. Sherlock’s mouth watered at the sight of John Watson, and his heart threatened to jump out of his body. The blonde was wearing a jumper as blue as his eyes that suited him perfectly well; white tight jeans, and his dark golden hair was brushed but rebelling at the short fringe. John was a vision. An oasis in the middle of a deadly desert.

Sherlock stood up and without hesitating hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms as much as he could without suffocating the shorter man. After some seconds he felt John’s hands caressing his back softly. He could stay like that for ages, just feeling John. His love felt just like he always did, so small and strong. _Compact_ was the word he used. Sherlock fit John’s head beneath his chin and closed his eyes. They were made for each other, how could anyone deny that? Kissing the top of his head, he pulled away slightly only so he could look John in the eyes.

John smiled, but there was a hint of something Sherlock surprisingly couldn’t identify. “Let’s sit, yes?”

Sherlock agreed with a nod and sat back. John did the same, but for Sherlock’s frustration he sat in front of him and not beside. He wished he could just wrap his arms around John and keep him there forever, but he would wait until John was ready to do so. _Moriarty is so fucked up, I don’t need his help anymore_. Sherlock smirked to himself.

The waiter came around their table, and they ordered. After they were alone again, Sherlock looked at John with a big grin on his face. John gave him a shy smile and absently put his hands on the table. That was when Sherlock saw it. His face turned serious in the moment his eyes caught sight of the ring. A golden and thick _ring_. Sherlock couldn’t do anything more than to stare at the intruder object that just didn’t belong on John’s finger. _This is wrong. This is very wrong._

“Sherlock…” John said sighing, probably realizing Sherlock had noticed by now. “That’s why I called you here.”

He wanted to twist Moran’s neck with his bare hands. How dared he? How dared he put a ring on _his_ John’s finger?

“Sherlock, please. Would you listen to me? Hey, look at me.” John tried saying, but Sherlock just kept staring at the disgusting band staining his John’s hand. The doctor made a move to hide his hands back under the table but the genius was faster and grabbed the left one.

“Sherlock… Let go.” John said, voice still calm. “Let’s talk.”

Sherlock held John’s small hand with his bigger ones and caressed his fingers gently until he reached the golden ring. He lifted the hand and tried to touch the thing with his fingers when John pushed it out of his claws, Sherlock chased and managed to take hold of it once again. He was unable to speak or think clearly. All he wanted was to rip the object off his love’s finger. After nine years he would most certainly not allow John to slip away to somebody else’s arms. John was _his_ and that was a fact.

“Sherlock, I’ll tell you one more time. Snap out of it, let go of my hand.” John’s voice was low and serious, but still under control.

Sherlock tightened his grip with one hand and with the other he attacked John’s finger, trying to pull the ring out. It was animalistic and ridiculous, but his mind paid no attention to it. He was beyond control, beyond limits. Sherlock was allowing his instincts and emotions to get the better of him, and if was going to be completely honest with himself he was enjoying it, because that was the only reason John would know what he did to him, how far he was willing to go for the blonde.

He was almost there, the ring slipping on the edge of the finger - with John’s attempts of pushing Sherlock away useless – when he felt big and strong hands pull him hard out of the booth. He could barely acknowledge Moran’s growling when he felt a hell of a punch on his face. He fell to the floor, head dizzy and breathing erratic. Moran wasted no time on picking Sherlock by his hair and throwing him roughly at the nearest wall. The dark haired man almost fell back again, his knees weak and body in pain. Moran pounced into him once more, kicking him hard on the stomach and hitting him bad on the other side of his face. Sherlock ended up crouched on the floor, hair on his damp face and before he could stand up again, he felt a foot pressed against his back.

“Seb, no! Don’t do that. Look, I’m fine. He lost his mind, but you don’t want to lose yours too, right?” John’s voice could be heard from some meters away.

It took some seconds but the foot was removed. Sherlock, though, didn’t wait until the man had his back turned to jump on him, grabbing the taller man by his shoulders and throwing him on the next booth. Moran hit hard on the wood, making the current clients there to move away from the place. He didn’t fall down, though, but instead launched onto Sherlock again. This time the genius was ready for the ginger soldier.

“No, you two! Stop that, please!” John’s voice got lost in the middle of their fighting.

The anger and hate one was feeling for the other was tangible. Sherlock’s entire body was hurting and he knew eventually Moran would win – he was bigger and knew better how to fight – but he would never give up. He would never give up on John. The world could try, but they wouldn’t be able to bring Sherlock and John apart ever again. Not even death had this power.

The two men were rolling on the floor, their faces bloody and their limbs wounded, but that was nothing compared to their determination. Sometimes Moran caught Sherlock out of guard and he ended up with his back against the tiles, but other times Sherlock punched the ginger right between his ribs. All the time they were slightly aware of hands trying to separate them with no success, and John’s voice begging them to quit it.

Finally – and quite suddenly - one single soft tone caught both their attentions.

“Now now, Johnny I think it’s better if you come with me. You don’t belong in the middle of this mess, do you honey?”


	7. Searching for a sweet surrender but this is not the end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi people!!
> 
> I'm so so sorry it took me forever to update this! It's the end of my semester in Uni so things get a little busy! This chapter is bigger than usual, so I hope it makes up for the delay.
> 
> Also, forgive my mistakes please, this is not beta'd or britpicke'd. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it! :*

 

Jim’s tone showed nothing of the real anxiety and excitement he was feeling from seeing John there in the same place he was, just standing there looking as beautiful as always – or maybe more, if that was possible. John was more mature and stronger than nine years ago, of course – what only gave him a greater sex appeal – but he still had that innocent kind of quality Jim adored. The two men fighting on the floor stopped to look at Jim and he appreciated this favored position of his – above them, calm and controlled while they were desperate and wild. Although deep down Jim was not much more different. John was still looking at him, expression of shock on his face. By looking at his love’s features Jim realized Sebastian had told him the truth about his fake suicide, because John didn’t look too astonished and exasperated as he would if he thought Jim was dead. He looked surprised; and was there a sign of longing in those beautiful dark blue eyes? Or was Jim only seeing things he wanted to see?

“I think you should come with me, Johnny.” Jim called again, reaching a hand to John.

Moran and Holmes started to lift angrily, pushing at each other to see who was going to stand up first. They looked like children and Jim couldn’t blame them, for that’s how John made everybody around him feel. Moran straightened up his leather jacket and ran a hand across his mussed coppered hair. Jim admired the man for a bit. Broad shoulders and well-muscled figure, Sebastian Moran had also grown to be quite an attractive and handsome man. His pale blue eyes glared at Jim with anger, and the Irish genius smirked. If only things had gone different, Moran would have been a great asset for his network. The former soldier opened his mouth to speak but John’s voice sounded first.

“Jim.” The blonde said, making the genius’ entire body shiver just by speaking a word. He had missed that soft voice speaking his name like that. “You…”

Before John could continue, though, the diner’s manager appeared all making faces and shaking his head. “What have you done here? Out all of you or I’ll call the police!”

Jim simply took his phone from his pocket and pressed one button. Immediately four suited men entered the place and one of them spoke in a loud and clear voice. “This establishment is closed till further order. Exit the place, now.”

All of the people who were there – already uncomfortable from all the fight – didn’t need to be told twice; they got up and left the building in quick steps. The manager and staff, however, didn’t move from where they were standing, confused looks on their faces. Finally the manager crossed his arms and exclaimed, “Who do you think you are?! You can’t tell what—“

Two of the securities simply walked to the man and stopped each on one side of him, making no room for him to run. The other thug stood in front of him and leaned down so he could whisper something on the man’s ear. Thirty minutes later, the manager’s expression changed from mad to sad. “Out out, we’ll go home now, come on!” He said to his employees whilst grabbing a few things and vanishing from the diner in a hurry; his people did the same some seconds late.

Jim tilted his head to the side, signalizing their job was done and so his men flew out of the place, locking the door behind them. When Jim turned his eyes to the three young men again, what he saw didn’t please him at all. John was enveloped in Moran’s strong arms, and the taller man was kissing his hair while Sherlock stared with the same hate Jim was feeling at the scene, fists clenched and teeth almost bare, if one paid close attention they could hear him growling. Jim took a deep breath, there was so much to be said and so few words to express it… And then when he lowered his eyes to John’s hands he saw it. A golden band that fit obnoxiously in a perfect way on the blonde’s finger. The genius looked to Moran’s hand and saw the exact same ring.

Now everything made sense to Jim; that was the reason they were fighting. If Jim knew that by then he might had jumped into the storm as well. The word ‘wrong’ came into his mind. That was what the situation was all about. How life can go wrong. John was so obviously Jim’s, he even had his mark on his beautiful face. So that ring made no sense at all on his finger.

“Jim… What are you doing here?” John asked, making Jim move his eyes from their hands to his face.

He forced himself to smirk his most crooked smile despite all the pain he was feeling in his dark heart. “I came here to rescue you from these beasts, Johnny boy. You seem a bit lost.”

“How dare you?” Sherlock snarled, stepping towards Jim, ready to pounce. “After all the pain you caused him?!”

Jim almost frowned at that. He and Sherlock had a deal; they were supposed to plan how to get John away from Sebastian together. Of course John was not supposed to know they were on this, but they had agreed on not stepping on each other’s shoes while the plan was in action. Had Sherlock given up after he found out about John’s engagement? Or was this part of another thing? Would Sherlock actually punch him there? Jim had no time to find out; John got out of Sebastian’s embrace and put a hand on Holmes’ shoulder.

“Sherlock! Stop it.” The blonde doctor said, and Jim could clearly hear military on his tone. It was quite arousing.

Sherlock turned to look at John and his expression softened in the moment. “John, he—“

“No. Don’t.” John closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his entire body tense. Moran gave him space but kept an attentive eye on him. “Jim, you hurt me indeed. You hurt me deeply, in and out. You were the reason why I couldn’t sleep well for so long. You haunted me, Jim! You cannot simply decide to get back to my life thinking I’d actually accept you back!”

Jim’s body stiffened. His voice was weak when he spoke, “Johnny. I—“

“I’m not finished.” John’s deep blue eyes were staring right through his soul. “You are not a good person, Jim. You are not good for me, just like I am not good for you. But I’d be lying if I say I wasn’t happy by your side for the few months we were together. You’re part of my life, Jim. Good or bad, you’ll always be here inside me. So yes, I forgive you.” John’s eyes didn’t blink as he kept piercing Jim with those pretty serious eyes. “I’ve forgiven you the moment you did it, James Moriarty. But don’t think for one second I’ll have you back.”

Jim was in a loss for words; his mind was a storm of scenes and songs. A still conscious part of his mind caught Sherlock’s little smug smile. Apparently John also noticed this for he turned his head and frowned at the taller genius.

“Sherlock, you were the love of my life. But you couldn’t control yourself, could you? You still can’t! How can I be with someone so unstable? I like dangerous, it’s true, but what you turned out to be is not healthy, Sherlock! It’s beyond a little dangerous. It’s creepy!” John shook his head and sighed. “I know you too will always be part of me, and I’ll help you if you need me because I’ll always care about you, Sherlock. But the same goes for you, I cannot accept you back.”

Jim wished he could be glad for Sherlock’s misery, but how could he when he was feeling the same thing? Or maybe even worse. It didn’t take an observant person to see how Holmes’ body shrunk after John’s speech; his eyes were pale and he seemed the most vulnerable Jim had ever seen. John ran a hand across his soft hair and walked back to Sebastian, taking his hand and entwining their fingers together.

“Sebastian Moran saved me from the black hole you two left in my life. Seb brought me back to myself; he respects me, he gives me the space I need, he doesn’t try to take control of me. His love is altruist. He gives everything he has without expecting me to give back. He makes me sane, he keeps me excited. We are two men in love, while you two still live under the shadow of our time as boys.” John brought Moran’s hand to his lips and gave it a soft kiss. “Yes, we’ll get married. And if you truly love me, you’ll respect me. You’ll respect us.”

Jim could see Moran’s body filling with pride and happiness, feelings Jim had forgotten how they felt at the moment. Then John did something that made his stomach turn, and he seriously almost got sick like never before. The soldier doctor took Moran’s neck with his hands and pulled his face down to his, their lips meeting slowly and deeply. Jim felt as if it was that psychological torture Sherlock did to him all over again, but stronger. He could not look at it, he could not bear it. His eyes went to Sherlock’s face who seemed to be as conflicted as Jim, his expression was one of extreme pain. Brown met silver. Silently a concrete plot had formed between them.

\--

Apparently the two geniuses were too dumbstruck to move a finger against the couple’s exiting. Sebastian knew, though, that war was far from being over. They wanted John and they would not give up so easily. But the thing was: John wanted Sebastian. He didn’t want Moriarty or Holmes. He wanted Moran. That thought still hadn’t sunk in even after all those years, Seb couldn’t quite figure out why he was so lucky to have John’s love. But he did, and he was the happiest man in the planet for it. The scenes from the past hour kept showing in his head and that did nothing but making him even more aroused. He literally couldn’t take his hands off John all the way to the hotel. He had pressed the blonde on the wall and snogged him right after they left the diner, and then in the cab he kept nipping at his earlobe and squeezing his thigh. John seemed to be in a similar state, with color on his cheeks and eyes dark.

They could barely breathe or open the hotel door when they arrived at their room. Sebastian was currently sucking and kissing at John’s neck, while the blonde was moaning and running his hands all over Seb’s back and hair. When they finally got inside and locked the door behind them, both men fell on the carpeted floor. John beneath Sebastian, his beautiful face flushed and debauched. Seb knew himself wasn’t too different. He bit John’s bottom lip and rolled his hips down so their covered erections would touch each other. They both groaned at the movement, and without more hesitation Seb started to undress John and then himself.

“John…” Seb moaned when they were both naked, their cocks leaking already.

“Yeah?” John whispered, trying to keep his breathing even.

“You were so fantastic today.” Seb said kissing at John’s neck again. “You were perfect. My fiancé. My beautiful man.”

“I am”, John wrapped his legs around Seb’s waist. “I’m your fiancé, I’m your man.”

“I wanted to fuck you right there, John. I wanted to push you down on a table and thrust into you so they’d all know you’re mine.” Sebastian said, but then he realized what he had said. John had dealt with so much possessiveness, especially tonight, that was the last thing he needed. Pulling back a little, Seb stared at John’s eyes. “I’m sorry, baby, I didn’t…”

John shook his head desperately with a lustful gaze. “S’ okay. You can, Seb, you’re the only one. I want you to call me that, I want you to take me now. Please, love, fuck me. Fuck me hard, prove me I’m yours and not theirs.”

Sebastian knew this was probably lust and the desire to make all that confusion go away speaking so he would do it now with his permission but he would try to control himself in the future not to overwhelm John. He mouthed John’s tanned neck and bit there, stronger than usual. Marking him. “You’re mine, John Watson.” He growled to the skin. “I’ll ravish you, so you’ll see how mentally and physically you’re mine. Tell me, John. Tell me now.” Seb used his captain’s tone.

“I’m yours, Seb! You’re the only one who deserves me. I’m all yours, now I beg you, please fuck me!” John groaned, pressing his body even closer to his fiancé’s.

Seb sat down and grabbed John roughly by the shoulders – but calculated so he wouldn’t hurt him – and threw him on his front on the floor. John’s lovely arse was displayed to him so round and edible. He couldn’t help but lowering his mouth and biting the soft globes, making John moan while he did it. The white flash was soon reddish and wet. It didn’t take long for him to press his tongue in that tight and pink hole, going as deep as he could. They were so lost in their desire that they almost forgotten what had just happened. In that moment nothing mattered but themselves. To Seb, nothing ever mattered in the world but John constantly, everyday. But tonight, their bodies were singing and had a life of their own.

“I’m ready, Seb!” John almost shouted.

Seb licked his palm and spread saliva on his own length. “It will burn, John, but it’s good so you’ll know whom you belong to.” The ginger growled and without hesitating put his big hard cock inside John. The sensation was fantastic as usual, but there was something even more especial in taking John like this, it felt like he was in charge, as if he had control. He knew that wasn’t true, that John was the one who ruled him, but for that moment he allowed himself to believe he could walk around calling John his.

“Move, love, move!” John exclaimed.

And Sebastian did it. It was not gentle. Seb assumed a fast and desperate rhythm, thrusting in and out quickly. The only sounds in the room were their moans, John’s sweet nothings and the slap of their sweaty skin hitting each other hard as Seb fucked John wildly. He looked down to see the delicious scene of his large cock leaving and entering that small entrance of John’s. It belonged to him, all of this. All of John’s. No one would ever have John like this again. He was taking his claim. He was so enthralled and hypnotized by this notion and by their wet bodies completing each other so well that he could just groan instead of speaking.

“I’m close! I’m so fucking close, oh god!” There was a beautiful noise that just came out of John’s throat. “You’re so fucking _huge_ , Seb! Feels so good!”

John’s words with his warm passage engulfing Seb’s leaking cock made him come in one big shot right into John’s hot arsehole. He kept fucking him through his orgasm, the world had gone white and everything was swirling but somehow he was aware of John coming as well beneath him, on the floor. They were sated, happy and exhausted. Sebby slid out of John and lay down beside him, pulling the short blonde to his damp chest and kissing his hair slightly. “I love you.” He said simply, hoping it would hold all of the sentiment he was feeling at the moment.

“Hmm… I love you too, honey.” John said sleepily, snuggling closer to Seb’s muscled body.

John quickly began to sleep, and Seb knew he would follow him soon but before he did it, he swore to himself he would find out whatever plan Jim was going to make. Because Sebastian was _sure_ Moriarty was going to plan something. It wouldn’t work, though, Sebastian was stronger and smarter now, he would do anything he needed to keep John his and the threat away. He was a soldier, a commander; he was going to bring James Moriarty and Sherlock Holmes down.


	8. You're my favorite kind of night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi my lovelies!
> 
> First of all, sorry it took me soooooo long to update this chapter. My goodness, I'm really sorry I made you all wait so much. Now, fortunately, I'll be able to post a new chapter every week! :D
> 
> Second, I'm sorry for any mistakes you might find here. I have no beta - if you want to be one, please contact me (:
> 
> Also, I want to thank Luthien_00 for brainstorming with me and for always supporting my writing. Love you. <3
> 
> Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it! xx

“So, I hope you have found something worthy of my time.” Sherlock dryly said, sitting down at the Café's table across from James. It was the last place anyone would relate to a Holmes and a Moriarty, that's why it was also the perfect place for their meeting. 

“You know me, Holmes. I never do anything that's time wasting.” Moriarty arched his eyebrows. “Can't say the same about you, though.”

“Yes, you can.” Sherlock threw a folder on the table.

Truth be told, that wasn't  _everything_  he had found, but he wasn't stupid to just handle all the information to Moriarty without having any back up plan for himself. Just because he was having to do  _business_ with the Irish genius it didn't mean he trusted him at all. In fact, the last thing Sherlock w anted to  do in his life was trust  James Moriarty.

Before the other could say anything, the waiter arrived with two steaming drinks. He put one in front of each genius. Sherlock frowned, he hadn't ordered anything. He was about to snap at the worker before listening to Moriarty's chuckle. “ What?”

“I ordered it for you. And don't worry, it's not poisoned.” He smirked.

He didn't actually believe Moriarty would be crazy enough to poison him right there, but accepting the drink would be a sign of giving in at least part of his trust to him, so he pushed the cup away and crossed his arms, glaring at the other man. “ You  _are_ wasting my time, Moriarty. Just spit it out already!”

The other genius sighed but didn't press the matter.  He reached to take up the folder Sherlock had placed there, but the curled haired man cleared his throat. Moriarty rolled his eyes but picked a little package out of his suit pocket and put it next to the folder. There was something that looked like a CD wrapped on brown paper. “There you go. I'm sure what's inside this CD is much more valuable than what it's inside your precious folder.”

Sherlock snorted. “Why don't you take a look to figure it out?”

Moriarty hesitated only for a moment before taking the papers. His eyes passed from line to line and to page to page as fast as was humanly possible. There was no expression on the man's face but Sherlock knew he knew that was an impressive piece of information that could pretty much put  Moran  in jail. The best part was that he managed to get it without Mycroft even being suspicious about it.  Sebastian Moran had quite a stormy past back when he had to deal with his complicated family. Some of the facts on the documents could be seen as self-defence, but Sherlock knew how guilty Moran probably still felt about them and this guilty would easily make the genius' plan work with perfection.

“This is actually quite good”, Moriarty admitted. “But mine is better, and you'll see why.” 

Sherlock sighed but grabbed the CD and stored it into his coat pocket. “Something from the army, isn't it?”

Moriarty silently clapped his hands. “Very good. Yes, of course. You know how soldiers love to record their missions, right? Well, one was lucky enough to record a certain episode that puts our Sebby boy as main character. A  scene  worth y  of a horror film.”  The Irish said with a cheerful tone.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, “If it's recorded in video that means it has already passed by authorities and nobody judged it to be illegal or...”

“Oh, Sherlock, be more creative! Open your mind. What would be worse? Have Sebastian merely arrested _or_  have Sebastian rejected and abandoned by John, who we both know can't deal with injustice and cruelty very well. Which of the options do you think it's the best punishment?”

“Now who's not being creative?” Sherlock admonished, shaking his head and smirking devilish. “Why not have both?”

 

–

 

“Seb, today was perfect.” John whispered, kissing his cheek.

Sebastian smiled and kissed the top of his doctor's head. “ I wanted you to have at least a good last memory of London before we go back to Southampton."

John hugged his  fiancé by the strong waist and  rested his head on his broad chest. “Last night was quite a fantastic memory”, he murmured, and Sebastian could feel the blond's grin. 

“Indeed, but I wanted you to see the city like this. Have a fond memory of us above all of them. Above all the problems down there.” He reached a hand to John's short hair and started to card his fingers through the silky strands. 

They were both inside one of the cabins in the Eye, right at the very top level. The timing was perfect. The sun was setting, bathing the city with a golden veil that screamed hope; and there was only a few people with them in the capsule, but most were quiet, so they could enjoy their comforting silence. Just the beat of their hearts. Just the feeling that they were going to go home tomorrow and leave all of the bad memories behind, replacing them with good ones. It would be fine. Sebastian would make sure of it. John and him deserved to be happy. 

When they left the Eye – fingers intertwined – Sebastian felt light. “Do you want to have dinner out or in?” He looked down to ask John and noticed the beautiful smile planted on his face. His heart raced. John's smile would always have that effect on him.

“Well, since we had lunch in, we could go to a restaurant tonight. Yes?” John glanced at him with those bright blue eyes full of hope.

“Yes. Always yes for you, my love.” Sebastian said, dipping his head to steal a soft kiss that made John giggle.

They walked for a while looking for an interesting place, until John suddenly stopped on his tracks and pushed the taller man back. He was staring at a small place, Italian as it seemed. The name outside said Angelo's. “Do you want to eat here?”

John nodded. “Yes. I think I've eaten here before, years ago... I'm not sure, though, I've visited many Italian restaurants in my life, and the names are always similar!”

Sebastian chuckled. “Alright, let's get in.”

They sat down at one of the front tables, and the waitress promptly came to light up a candle, smiling broadly at them as if knowing their entire story. Sebastian felt pleased, so he smiled back.

“Here are the menus, please call when you decide. Okay?” She said politely looking at them both, then went away to the back of the restaurant after they thanked her.

Sebastian had an idea, a silly one, for that matter. He smiled down at himself, felt his cheeks reddening and thought himself as ridiculous – since when did he  _blush_ ? Suddenly he felt John's hand touching his from across the table, he had a quizzical look on his pretty face.

“Okay, you need to tell me right now what made you blush like this!” John asked barely managing to keep his laughing back.

“I... I-Well... I-It doesn't...” The red haired could barely speak right feeling so ashamed.

“Spill it out,  _fiancé_!” John leaned closer to whisper in his ear. He knew how much being called his fiancé affected Sebastian. The man only flushed even more, he was sure to be red from his chest to the tip of his ears.

“I thought we might... Err... Order only one dish, a big one, a....” He couldn't continue. He couldn't suggest it. It was way too silly, too childish. John would think him nuts.

But then the blond was laughing. Not at Sebastian, no, it wasn't a bitter laugh, just a very fond one. “I know what you mean.” John looked around the restaurant until he found the waitress and gestured her to come back. “So, my fiancé and I would love to have the biggest spaghetti plate you have. Only one fork, please. Oh, and water.”

She smiled, knowingly. “Understood, sir. Right away.”

“Thank you!” John smiled as she left.

_Bloody hell, I love this man,_ Sebastian thought, taking John's hand on his and feeling his ring there. The ring the other men had hated to see. The ring that showed the entire world how much John was his – that John had chosen to be his. And that he was John's. Soon enough they would have each other's last names and then it would be a pleasure to give his documents around to whoever wanted to see. Maybe even to the machine in the supermarket.

They had both of their hands clasped together, thumbs caressing thumbs, and they were so leaned towards each other that they were almost breathing on each other mouths - not that anyone was complaining. They weren't usually this affectionate in public - John's choice; if it was up to Sebastian they'd always have public displays of affection wherever they were - but after the events of the previous days, all that stress and worrying, John seemed to relinquish their exhibitionism as a form of reassurance that they'd be okay.  

After some minutes their food arrived. Just like he imagined. A big bowl of spaghetti that looked incredibly delicious and held many possibilities.

John took the one fork the waitress had brought them and swirled some pasta on it before taking it to his mouth. 

Sebastian swallowed hard his saliva. John knew that he got absolutely turned on whenever the blond started to make those little "hmm" noises while he was proving something particularly tasty - specially if this something tasty was his cock. "Good?" The soldier whispered, barely keeping his hands to himself.

John licked his lips and nodded, already picking some more past with the fork. "Fantastic. Here, have some." He said while feeding Sebastian the macaroni. 

The red haired didn't know what made the flavour so marvelous: if the seasoning used by the chef or the fact that John just gave it to him after using the fork himself. "God, yes. Brilliant." He muttered, with his mouth still full.

John giggled. "My man is so polite."

"You like it", Sebastian teased.

"Damn right I do." John leaned to give him a gentle kiss on the nose. "So, want to do it now?" 

"What?" He was confused for a moment but then the blond nodded his head towards the spaghetti and Sebastian remembered. "Oh... Right. Of course. If you want to."

"I do want to." John said firmly, grinning widely at him.

Since John had the fork, he was the one who selected the longest piece so that he and Sebastian could start sharing it "innocently". It was perfect, better than on Lady and the Tramp, but then again they were dogs, so it wasn't really comparable. 

They were both even playing the parts, looking around the place, eyes on everything expect each other, as if they didn't know they were sucking on the same piece of spaghetti. It was ridiculous, two grown up men doing that. But damn if it wasn't amazing. And so very special. Comforting, even.

So when their lips touched they both feigned surprised for a second before laughing so much they almost choked on the pasta. When they had drank some water and relaxed a bit, the soldiers dipped their heads again and this time they kissed for real. It lasted for a good sweet moment until John suddenly backed away, his eyes were wide and staring at something behind Sebastian. He turned his head to see but there was only the street on the other side of the windows.

"What's the matter, my love?" The taller man asked, touching John's wrist.

"I'm sorry. I... I thought I had seen... Ah never mind, really. I think it's just my mind playing tricks." He answered with a little smile that couldn't disguise his shaken voice. Was he afraid?

"John...?" Sebastian started but was interrupted by a loud voice next to their table.

"John Watson?!"


	9. Been trying hard not to get into trouble, but I’ve got a war in my mind

 

They both turned their heads at the voice calling John's name.

It was a man wearing a chef outfit. Sebastian had never seen him before but he assumed he was Angelo from the restaurant's name. How did he know John?

“Ehm.. Hi there!” John smiled awkwardly. Apparently he also didn't remember the man.

“Oh you don't recognize me?! It's Angelo! You used to come here all the time with your Sherlock when you were younger! Where is he?” Angelo completely ignored Sebastian's presence so far.

“Sorry, I don't think I used to come here that often. But well, Sherlock and I are not together anymore.” John shrugged, seeming unaffected by the man's questions.

“Oh no, don't tell me that! You two were made for each other! All these years and I still remember how you used to look at each other, so beautiful, it seemed there was no one else in the restaurant!” Angelo said way too excitedly; he was beginning to really get under Sebastian's skin.

“We broke up a long time ago. Now I'm with Sebastian.” John looked at Seb and squeeze his hand with a pretty smile on his face. “In fact, we are engaged.”

Angelo didn't even try to disguise his displeasure with that fact, grimacing and glaring at their intertwined hands. “Oh that's too bad! Sherlock is one of a kind, he saved my life once, you know that?”

“That's good for you. It's a shame he couldn't be this good for John, though. But I am. Now, if you excuse us?” Seb gave Angelo a very fake smile that made John chuckle.

The chef hesitated for a moment before clearing his throat and nodding. “I'll leave you be.” He turned to go back to the kitchens but stopped on his tracks and said to John in a low voice: “This one doesn't look at you the way Sherlock did.”

That was enough. Seb stood up angrily. “Maybe because Sherlock is a fucking psychopath?! He looks at John as if John were a piece of food! You know nothing, _nothing_ about our lives, so why don't you shut the fuck up and mind your own business?!” He picked up the money from his wallet and threw some on the table. “Keep the change.”

He offered John his hand and the blond took it gladly without hesitation, smiling proudly at him. They both got out of the restaurant ignoring all the eyes on them. They walked so close that sometimes they stumbled on each other's toes and started to giggle about it. Despite all the bad blood inside that place, their humour was only getting better. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe the fact that they all did see how proud John looked or how dumbstruck they had left Angelo.

Sebastian found himself being pressed against a wall with warm lips sucking bruises on his neck. He circled his arms around John's waist pressing their crotches harder, feeling their erections rubbing against one another. It's not as if they hadn't had public sex before, but that was their last night in London and he wanted to take John to their hotel bed and make sweet love to him until dawn.

“John, my love, if you don't—oh god-- stop right now or I won't be able to—jesus-- control myself!” Seb managed to say between gasps and moans.

He felt John smirking against his skin. “And what's wrong with that?” He whispered with a tone that made Seb's knees tremble.

“I... Want... To... Oh god, John... In the bed...” The ginger could barely form a proper sentence to defend his argument.

“Can't put up two times at one night?” John teased, lips brushing his earlobe.

Seb let out a rough laugh at that, despite the ache between his legs, as John bit the sensitive skin. “You know pretty well that I can...” He was even surprised that he managed to say the phrase without slurring the words.

“So let it go, handsome.” The way John spoke those words right into his ear should be illegal. John should be illegal.

“Let's... At least go to that alley. I don't want to share how beautiful you look when you come with anyone else...” The taller man said, grabbing a handful of John's delicious arse.

This time John was the one who groaned. “O-Okay...”

How they got to the alley with their erections practically poking holes in their pants and trousers Seb wasn't sure. But as soon as the shadows covered them, John's small and perfect hands were deftly untying his and Seb's flies at speed light.

But everything suddenly stopped as soon as they heard steps. They tried to remain as still as possible so that the person passing by would think they're just having a very intimate talk in the dark – nothing suspicious at all – and moved on walking. Sebastian looked at John and realised he was holding back his laugh, that made it impossible for him not to smirk too at the absurdity of the situation. They were honoured soldiers for goodness' sake.

The steps slowed down and Sebastian used his peripheral vision to see the person just in case it was a robber or a bum. He wasn't expecting to see that brooch. _The_ brooch. His mouth gaped and he couldn't take his eyes off of the damned piece of jewellery. The man wearing it kept walking until he was out of sight and just then Sebastian realised he hadn't looked at the bloody man's face. _It can't be him_. _It just can't, it's impossible._ But there was only one brooch like that, he knew that. And he could never forget it. It was so visible with its bright gold and ruby stone. He wasn't mistaken, there was no way he could be.

“Seb? What's wrong?” John asked, noticing his distress and touching his cheek.

He couldn't look John in the eye. “I'm sorry, I just have to check something. I'll be right back, okay? I'm sorry.” And then he bolted after the man wearing the brooch.

When he turned the street corner the mysterious person was already out of sight.

 

–

 

“What do you think you are doing, brother dear?” Mycroft's irritating voice said.

Sherlock didn't move from his position on the chair, eyes closed, legs crossed at the ankles and hands steepled beneath his chin. He was far from interested in whatever his brother could possibly say to him, but he would be lying if he said the fact that Mycroft knew what he was doing didn't give him at least a little bit of apprehension. His nosy of a brother had interfered with his and John's life before and he knew he could do it again.

“What does it look like, brother?” The curled haired genius simply answered with an indifferent tone.

“I know precisely what it looks like. My question was 'what do YOU think you're doing?'”

At this, Sherlock opened his eyes to glare at Mycroft's round face. “The right thing.”

The coppered haired Holmes sighed. “That's what I feared. You really think you're helping him, don't you?” The way Mycroft looked at him was infuriating, like he was some infant acting naughty. He ignored that for now.

“I _am_ helping him, Mycroft. He is confused. It's natural, of course, with all this mess in his life.” Sherlock put both his hands on the arms of his chair and squeezed it tight like he'd like to do with Sebastian Moran's throat.

The older genius shook his head. “Oh Sherlock... You do understand that a great percentage of this 'mess' was caused by you, right? If you truly want to help John, you should allow him to be happy.”

“I think it's time for you to go, brother mine, you are starting to make no sense.” Sherlock gave him a dismissive gesture with a wave of his hand.

“And this dance with Moriarty... You know how it will end.” Mycroft stood up, arching his eyebrows at his baby brother.

“Yes, with him defeated and John being mine again.” Sherlock said with a dangerous flicker in his eyes. “Now leave.”

“No. It will end up with John's blood all over your hands.”

Sherlock almost jumped on his brother, grabbing his arm and throwing him against the wall. “The only blood in my hands will be yours if you try to do anything— _anything at all_ to stop me.” He growled very low next to Mycroft's ear.

As much as he denied – and he would deny until the day of his death – Sherlock Holmes loved Mycroft Holmes, and he admired him since he was a little boy. He didn't want to hurt his brother and he certainly didn't want to kill him – just the mere thought felt out of place in his mind – but the older genius needed to understand that no one or nothing was going to stay between his objective: getting John back.

Taking a deep breath he let Mycroft go and backed away to sit down down again, calmer this time.

Mycroft massaged the arm Sherlock had grasped and when he looked at his brother there wasn't any grudge or anger, just concern. “I'm sorry, Sherlock. I'm sorry I didn't put you into an institute when I had the chance.”

Sherlock frowned. “I'm not crazy, Mycroft. Now, don't make me ask you another time to leave...”

His big brother suddenly carried an expression that made him look so much older than he actually was. His blue eyes were on the floor before they came ice cold to meet Sherlock's silver ones. “Do you know why despite all your little schemes and manipulations John will still choose Sebastian?”

Sherlock's patience was close to the edge. “Mycroft, if you don't--”

“Because he is a better man than you.” Mycroft sighed sadly. Sherlock was suddenly frozen at his spot. “You know how deeply I care about you, brother. But John deserves a good man who puts his happiness as his priority. I hope one day you understand that.” Mycroft gave him one last look and left the flat.

Sherlock couldn't even blink. There was some kind of resignation and sadness in his voice that gave the younger genius chills that ran through his spine. It shouldn't bother him. It shouldn't. He was certain of his convictions, of how he was the one John needed, how they were made for each other – even if this went against his beliefs involving fate. One voice in his mind kept telling him Mycroft was wrong, because he did put John's happiness first, of course he did, that's why he was doing all this. A second voice told him Mycroft was right, and that he was just a self-centred sociopathic bastard whose John should be away from.

Maybe, maybe... But Moriarty was worse than him and he was after John too. Sherlock just couldn't leave him get the boy back, _that_ would be extremely prejudicial to the blond. Yes, that's it. Sherlock thought that was a good excuse – protect John from Jim, that's what he was doing – and Sebastian Moran also had a couple of things John wouldn't appreciate, that needed to be spoken as well for John's sake, right? Yes. Sherlock would show John and Mycroft that despite his imperfections, the others were worse. After all John and him were naturally compatible.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading it! I'd love to know what you think about it. (:

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Off Sparks](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5900296) by [Luthien_00](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthien_00/pseuds/Luthien_00)




End file.
